


Botany Lessons

by TellMeNoAgain



Series: The Tales of the Handmaiden of Yggdrasil [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Biological Need is Not Explicit Consent, Dubious Consent, M/M, Thor's Weird Alien Cock, incubus Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27747127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain
Summary: Oh no!The Handmaiden is POISONED.Who could we possibly turn to, in this hour of need?!Hint:  READ THE DAMN TAGS.~~~“You can’t just- look- the kid doesn’t want Thor, he’s made that abundantly clear,” protested Tony, and Peter nodded, the motion creating rippling waves that rebounded throughout reality and caused strange scents and flavors to flood his mouth and nose.  He didn’t want Thor, the asshole who wasresponsiblefor all of this- the one who’d- wait- no, that had beenValkyrie, right?  It hadn’t been-“-no choice,DoctorStark,” said Doctor Strange snarkily.  Dr. Stark?  Who the hell was he- oh, right, Tony had all those degrees.  He was-A cramp hit, painful, doubling him over.  Doctor Strange bent and lifted Peter easily, enveloping him in a tight embrace and cradling him closely.  Peter hissed and licked at the skin presented to him, thirsty now for more- more contact, more scent, more flavor.“-call him,” said Tony, sounding defeated.  Call who?
Relationships: Peter Parker/Thor
Series: The Tales of the Handmaiden of Yggdrasil [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972693
Comments: 19
Kudos: 68





	Botany Lessons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SamTheSnake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamTheSnake/gifts).



> Thanks to the cheer-reading crew in the TW section of WriterBuddies Discord server: SamTheSnake, personaljunkdrawer, mindwiped, Orchidaexa, TedraKitty and livvibee. I think. If I missed anyone who cheered this story, please let me know!!
> 
> SamTheSnake, you should know why you've been gifted this but if not, come tug on my elbow and I'll explain it very slowly and with as many words that make you squirm as I can dredge up from the filthy gutters of my soul.
> 
> Thanks to mindwiped and jf4m Here's a beautiful bouquet of flowers for your efforts!
> 
> All remaining errors are mine, because I was having too much fun to worry about spelling and grammar, and you should, too.

The chimes in Doctor Strange’s study hurt Peter’s ears, made his naked skin crawl and his bones ache and the man was talking to him, slowly, but Peter couldn’t _understand_. He opened his mouth and the world snapped back into focus, briefly and dizzyingly, Doctor Strange in midword decrying- “-ammit, we have communication protocols in place for a _reason_ , Stark. He’s _ravenous_. We have to call Thor.”

“You can’t just- look- the kid doesn’t want Thor, he’s made that abundantly clear,” protested Tony, and Peter nodded, the motion creating rippling waves that rebounded throughout reality and caused strange scents and flavors to flood his mouth and nose. He didn’t want Thor, the asshole who was _responsible_ for all of this- the one who’d- wait- no, that had been _Valkyrie_ , right? It hadn’t been-

“-no choice, _Doctor_ Stark,” said Doctor Strange snarkily. Dr. Stark? Who the hell was he- oh, right, Tony had all those degrees. He was- 

A cramp hit, painful, doubling him over. Doctor Strange bent and lifted Peter easily, enveloping him in a tight embrace and cradling him closely. Peter hissed and licked at the skin presented to him, thirsty now for more- more contact, more scent, more flavor.

“-call him,” said Tony, sounding defeated. Call who? 

Fuck, the flesh against his tongue was as sweet as the finest nectar, and as familiar as the soft caress of his pillow. He needed- needed-

“Shhhh,” soothed the man holding him, as Peter ground himself against the man to get a stronger reaction, to get the man’s body to _feed_ him what he needed. “Shhhh, Peter, help is coming, help is-”

The chimes rang again, making Peter gasp and shudder, as the gnawing headache returned and clarity fled.

~~~

“He is unwell,” said a strong voice, distantly.

“Yeah, he got hit with- we think- some kind of siren’s blood,” said another in reply.

Siren’s blood. Yes. There had been- _mission_ \- to- _place, other place, not this place-_ and he’d- he’d- God, he was so _hungry_ , so _thirsty_ , he’d fed and fed and-

“Peter,” said the strong voice, and Peter looked up, vision blurry, as a huge hand cupped his cheek, drawing his chin up. Oh. Thor. Yes. 

“You thirst,” said Thor, his eyes blazing. 

“Yesssss,” hissed Peter, his stomach clenching, making him hunch again, down towards his knees on the carpeted floor, the only thing holding him aloft Thor’s gentle hand against his cheek. The two other men in the room each stumbled forward a single step, as if unable to resist the pull of his words.

“You are injured,” Thor said, his eyes glowing slightly. He stood firmly, as unmoving as a rock, as strong as steel, unswayed by the need that tightened Peter’s muscles until they trembled.

Peter stared up at him, uncomprehending, Thor’s hand a hot brand of energy and warmth against his overly-sensitive skin.

“You had gained so much control, not two weeks ago,” Thor said, sadly. His thumb rolled across the heated skin of Peter’s right cheek and Peter moaned, pressing into the contact. “It is good that you called me, Doctor of Strange,” he said, looking above Peter’s head and over at one of the swaying men. “The Handmaiden is ill. I must tend to him.”

“What all does _tending_ entail, again?” asked Tony cautiously. Peter’s breath caught, feeling clear-headed for the first time in what had probably been days. He stared up at Thor, who stared down at him, with who-knew-what thoughts and memories shining in his sad eyes.

“He is mine to tend,” said Thor firmly, “with such tools as have been given me by my right as God of Fertility. I will not harm you, Peter,” he said lowly, a promise before an audience, maybe, but a promise just between the two of them. “I know, more than any, the weight of the responsibility you bear, now, and I wish only to help.”

“Help,” begged Peter, not looking at Tony, now, Tony who was limping and exhausted, draped over the back of a chair. Tony, who’d had to call Dr. Strange near-frantic last night- this morning- last night- when Peter had not settled, sated, against his chest, listening to his heartbeat soothe to a steady, slower pace. Peter had not settled, after his feeding, instead becoming only more hungry, only more needy, more-

“Shhhh,” soothed Thor, rubbing a thumb across Peter’s lips and shocking him back to clarity again, to the realization that he was keening, pressing into the man’s touch. “I will tend you, Handmaiden. Do you consent, Tony Stark?”

“I- don’t see any other choice,” said Tony, sounding unhappy. Peter flinched, and Thor’s eyes darkened, narrowing slightly.

“I give my consent,” intoned Doctor Strange, and Peter was present enough to note it sounded absolutely pompous. Tony’s scoff perfectly matched Peter’s rolled eyes, making Thor’s lips twitch with good humor.

“There is always another choice, Tony,” said Thor after another long moment, Peter studying his face and Thor calmly rubbing his thumb against Peter’s lips. “Always,” Thor promised Peter privately.

Peter nodded and, knowing Tony, knowing what demons rode Tony at that moment, gasped, “Tony, s’okay. Promise. He won’t- I’ll be okay. Promise. I was _mad_ at him, not- not- he’s hot, had a crush for-”

“A crush, kiddo,” sighed Tony. “Not a desire to fuck his brains out.”

“Both,” Peter gasped, finally licking Thor’s broad thumb, finally giving in to the urge, his eyelids fluttering shut and hips seeking forward in a small thrust. “Both, please, Tony.”

“Yes,” said Tony, finally, his voice warm enough for Peter to leak tears into his lashes. 

God, what he _owed_ the man, since- since all this- Tony didn’t deserve- Peter asked _so much-_

“We doin’ this here?” growled Tony.

“No,” said Thor in a voice that declared the finality of the single syllable. “Heimdall,” he said, in a quiet voice that roared along Peter’s veins.

“Wait, what?” yelped Tony, followed by, “Impossible!” from a furious Doctor Strange.

Thor winked down at Peter as the world became rainbow light shot through with golden shards. “Listen not to the Doctor, dearest Handmaiden. You shall find, in my care, that nothing is impossible.”

Peter stared up at him in awe, the clenching, craving hunger in his stomach and throat for the moment entirely forgettable.

~~~

The room was opulent, Peter noted with dazed disinterest, the entirety of his focus on the feast before him. Rich colors, ornate details, everything saturated with a sense of power and dignity and craftsmanship at the peak of performance. Thor’s smile looked like that, too, beneath his glowing eyes, the crackle of power the only sound Peter could hear, in the sudden silence after the roaring noise of the transport. His body felt lax and calm, leaning into Thor’s massive hand.

“Yes, you feel it, precious one,” murmured Thor with clear approval, eyes blazing. “You feel it.”

“Hungry,” whispered Peter, his breath wet against lips suddenly gone chapped.

No. Not _chapped_. He licked his lips and felt the splinters of _bark_.

He tilted his head into the hand harder, and felt tendrils spring, beginning to twine up through Thor’s hand and up Thor’s arm, the additional sensory input shocking through him sharply.

“Hush, little one,” murmured Thor, his thumb rubbing against Peter’s cheek. “Release me, and you shall be fed.”

Peter whined soundlessly, but allowed Thor to draw him to his feet slowly, concentrating on releasing the tendrils from Thor’s hand and wrist slowly, drawing them back into his skin.

“We are so near to the seed of your power, Handmaiden,” murmured Thor contemplatively, “do you feel the thrum of the World Soul within your core?”

Entranced, Peter nodded, tilting his head up, lips parted. 

“You are more tree than flesh,” chuckled Thor, his eyes twinkling with sudden mirth. “So thirsty, young soul. Here, let us begin to sate you.”

He drew Peter up with hands on Peter’s chin, again, fingers curling to cradle Peter’s jaw and press against the pivot point at the back of his neck. Peter craned his neck, his entire body one long arch towards Thor, until Thor chuckled again, dipping his head to lick at Peter’s lips. “Come, my soft petal,” he whispered, “part for me.”

Peter gasped at the electric feel of Thor’s lips hovering a scant leaf’s breadth from his own, and pressed forward, sealing his dry mouth to Thor’s wet one.

The sensation of _quench_ was immediate- Thor’s tongue plunging in, his saliva slicking the way, soaking Peter’s cracks and crevices and making everything damp and delightful as his tongue quested along playfully. He touched everything, claimed all space, filling Peter and quenching some of the thirst, swelling a deeper pool of need within Peter’s chest. “Yesss,” hissed Peter into the kiss, parting from Thor for the moment it took to give that encouragement.

“Release me,” laughed the man, pulling back, tugging on the tendrils that Peter had unconsciously slid around his head. “Release me, and you shall have your feast, precious one, Handmaiden of the Tree, you shall have all you desire and deserve.”

Peter pulled back the tendrils, embarrassed that he’d- that they’d- he’d- he hadn’t _meant_ to entrap the man.

“Shhh,” soothed Thor, lifting Peter by the expedient of sliding a thick-muscled arm underneath Peter’s ass and lifting him, Peter’s legs twining around the man’s torso instinctively. “To the bed,” he suggested with a smirk.

Peter smiled back, warmed by the heat the man put off, his face upturned to Thor’s like a flower toward the sun.

“You do not know the ways of my worship, do you, softest petal?” asked Thor in a quiet, hushed tone.

Peter shook his head wordlessly, as Thor laid him on the gigantic, overstuffed bed with gentle and powerful hands, his own body flowing up on the mattress with more grace than Peter would have expected from his bulk. He shifted Peter on the mattress to his liking as if Peter was nothing more than a long-stemmed flower that needed arranging, and then settled back on his knees, Peter’s legs splayed wide on either side of his body. Thor rested his hands on Peter’s thighs heavily, fingers massaging deeper and deeper with every passing breath shared between them. Peter stared up at Thor, feeling again that sense of awed recognition.

“You feel it, though,” teased Thor gently, trailing one hand up to press on Peter’s stomach, where the howling aching hunger lived. “I can see it, how you wish to show me your worship. Do you wish me to split you through? Do you seek that ancient rite already, young soul?”

Peter tossed his head on the bed, pressing up into the heavy hand on his stomach, and made a low moaning noise while Thor chuckled. 

“So eager, so young, little Handmaiden. The Tree chose correctly, I believe. Yes, Peter,” intoned Thor, leaning forward, resting his hand for balance on the bed beside Peter’s torso until he was spread like a canopy above Peter, his lips again hovering less than a breath away from Peter’s own, “Yes, I will _have_ you, softest petal-skin that you are- I will give you all you seek, although I do not think you know rightly that you seek it. I will sate you, and heal this deep injury that makes your sap quicken out of season.”

Peter panted, and whined, low in his throat, eyes trapped by Thor’s own smirking grin, eyes flashing with that same electric power. “Do you contest with me,” chuckled Thor, raising his other hand from Peter’s stomach to cradle Peter’s cheek and rub Peter’s eyelid shut, “snapping your green eyes at me, little Handmaiden, little tree spirit that you have become. Do you think you can spark anything in me that I do not allow, little bloom?”

Peter’s lips parted, eyes frantically searching Thor’s face for any of the fear or strain that sometimes shaded Tony’s or the Doctor’s faces, when Peter’s thirst and desire crested as it did now. Thor looked down at him with a fond smile, allowing him to search and search, and find nothing but teasing warmth- and fond recognition. “Peter,” said Thor slowly, thumb trailing lower to caress Peter’s lips again, rub there before thrusting inside, “do you part yourself for me?”

Peter slid his heels along the thick cover until they pressed against Thor’s thick thighs, lifting his hips to slide his pelvis against Thor’s clothed crotch. “I do,” he breathed to the god, a promise and a prayer that made Thor’s eyes flash and crackle, his smile broaden.

“Then I shall have you,” Thor declared, and the hand on Peter’s cheek released him, drifting lower as Thor’s lips again pressed to Peter’s. Peter’s world became the quenching lave of Thor’s tongue against his own, the slippery sensation of Thor’s saliva swirling through his parched mouth, Peter enthusiastically chasing the taste and feel of Thor inside him, desiring only _more_.

“So eager,” gasped Thor, drawing back with a chuckle, his eyes dropping hot sparks of electricity on Peter’s flushed cheeks. “So eager, little Handmaiden, to give me your worship.”

Peter felt Thor’s thick cock freed at last from the layers of clothing Thor had been unfastening while they kissed. It dropped heavily against his skin, and rested there, a thick weight that dropped liquid desire against his stomach. Peter skimmed his hands between their chests and down to that pool, coating his fingers and bringing them up to his mouth to suck the flavor of the god’s lust from them. “Thor,” he whispered between his own fingers, followed by an anxious, “ _more_.”

“You shall be sated, little tree spirit,” teased Thor fondly, tilting himself to give his hand better access to Peter’s pelvis. “I swear it, on my lifeblood and the bond we share. I shall give you what you need.”

Peter nodded as Thor’s hand trailed along the seam of his thigh, creeping underneath Peter to rest one fat finger against the pucker of Peter’s ass. “Shhh,” soothed Thor, the sound of his soothing ripe and round as he continued, “I will give your pistil the stamen it desires, sweet petal, only relax and open for me, Handmaiden.”

Peter breathed deeply as the finger pressed in, breaching the ring of muscle and releasing a damp, earthy scent around them.

“So eager,” teased Thor gently, “so much sap already waiting for me, Peter, already collected to ease the way of your god, parting you and cleaving you as you begin your worship in the oldest ways.”

Peter nodded, feeling that dripping, sticky flow dribble from his tight hole as Thor pressed another finger in, stretching him wide. Thor grinned down at Peter as Peter gasped up at him, attempting to shift to accommodate the stretch. His eyes fluttered shut as Thor’s fingers delved deeper and found the pleasure center within Peter, swirling against it with a demanding rhythm. “Ahh, you give yourself to me so sweetly, little one,” whispered Thor, and Peter nodded helplessly, breath shattering at the swell of desire and need released as Thor pressed a third finger inside, swirling all three of them through the sticky wetness that seeped from Peter.

“Breathe,” teased Thor, shifting his hips and raising himself up until he once more became the sheltering canopy above the shivering Peter, his legs pressing Peter’s thighs open and stretched, tilting Peter’s body as he lined his cock up to Peter’s aching hole. “Like all things of great worth, I do not anticipate this first time shall be easy for you,” Thor warned, with a grin, pressing forward.

Peter gasped, the sensation of being split wide and filled in the same small thrust and stroke entirely overwhelming. 

“Ahh, you surround my anther so sweetly,” groaned Thor. “I knew you would, from the first, from the moment I saw the green of the World Tree light your eyes, little one, I knew you would feel so smooth and slick, against me. Brace yourself, for I will have my fill of you, now.”

Peter nodded, thrusting back, hard, trying to encourage Thor with hips and heart to _move_ , dammit, _move_ , giving in to his desire as it crested.

“Glow all you want, sweet petal,” chuckled Thor, his eyes once again dripping small sparks to fall on Peter’s cheeks and chin as he kissed Peter’s nose and lifted his head again. “Draw your deepest draught of power from the World Tree itself, if you wish, you shall not overwhelm me.”

Peter panted up at him and gave in to the need to buck and shake, sliding himself up and down on Thor’s cock, drawing the man deeper and deeper, allowing tendrils to sprout and wrap around the man’s thighs, guiding him to new angles within Peter.

“Ahhh, you take to this worship so well,” cried Thor, his voice choked as Peter shifted their hips, allowing Thor’s cock to rub against his pleasure spot with each new thrust, gasping out his own choked cries in a rhythm set by Thor’s thrusts. “You take me so well, young Peter!”

Peter cried out, feeling the tip of Thor’s cock fill, becoming a punch that delved deeper and deeper into Peter, until it caught, there, heavy in Peter’s stomach, denying either of them movement. 

“Now,” bellowed Thor, his body trembling minutely, his lips pressing heavily to Peter’s, parting them to breathe into Peter’s mouth and fill Peter’s lungs with the taste of ozone and flame. Peter quaked as lightning burst deep within his core, a single bolt shocking along his every nerve, pulling his body taut against Thor’s. 

How long they arched there, poised against each other through Thor’s release and Peter’s frenzied crest, was impossible to note. For Peter it could have been all of eternity, his parched lips sealed to the dampness of Thor’s mouth, his back arching with the power that flooded him, his dick jerking uselessly through the orgasm the god forced out of him. All of eternity was bounded within the husk of that long moment, reality stretched to the breaking between them as the fire and lighting and flood raged within Peter’s body, crashing and rebounding, recoiling again and again until finally, finally, there was only the deep shivers of overwhelming satiation and satisfaction. 

Thor acknowledged the end of their joint peak with a chuckle, shaking his head as if declaring his disbelief. “Made for this, for me,” he gasped into Peter’s mouth. “To once again have a Handmaiden, what a _gift_.”

Peter shook, wrapping his arms tightly around the god’s torso, pulling Thor down to crush him to the bed, a welcome cover from the wide world around them. “Thor-” he whimpered, shocked at how _full_ he felt, the pressure of his stomach unbearable with that added weight. “What-”

Thor grinned down at him. “Ahh, I told you that you would not be best served by books, my softest petal. Such things are not written for the ages. The Tree chooses its host well, Handmaiden, from one who is strong enough to bear my full release, to sheathe me and to slake their thirst on my nectar.”

“Is- do you- is- is your anther-” gasped Peter, shaking his head, trying desperately to remember every plant biology lesson he’d ever had. “Is it-”

“Buried within you, releasing its sticky pollen,” said Thor in a teasing tone, nipping small kisses along Peter’s jawline. “I have no doubt your style is even now sucking my juices deep within you, Peter, although it is out of season and I doubt offspring will result.”

“My _what-_?” demanded Peter.

“I wonder what the books call it,” chucked Thor, shaking his head again before returning to his soft kisses, trailing sparks against Peter’s heated flesh. “Do they name it for a womb, a second stomach, small petal?”

“Second- second stomach,” declared Peter, remembering Tony’s excitement at the diagram. “For- sorting- for- collecting- the-” it was hard to think, with the small sparks of electricity causing rumbling echoes of tremors deep within him. Or perhaps the trembling was merely more electric shocks spurting from Thor’s cock, Peter realized. Electric shocks and something more, something that filled his stomach, giving him a bloated sensation. “The semen,” he finished lamely, staring up into Thor’s smug, satisfied expression.

“Collecting such pollen as you might, from lesser beings, yes,” sighed Thor happily, shifting their hips as if testing how tightly they were sealed. Finding them still tied tightly, he settled again, his weight a heavy and welcome press against Peter, the sensation fulfilling his desire for the touch of skin, finally, even though the man’s lower half remained clothed. “But you have been shaped for me, now, Peter,” said Thor authoritatively, “to take my anther, and mine alone- in all the universe there is only one World Tree, and one Handmaiden who serves it, and one God of Fertility capable of breeding that blossom.”

“Breeding?” breathed Peter.

“Seedpods, that the Tree might plant questing travel roots on many worlds” agreed Thor with a laugh, shaking his head. “Although children are not unheard of,” he said in a considering tone of voice. “My first Handmaiden bore me two such tree-spirited children, long ago grown from saplings to aged timber, lost to time.”

“Children?” squeaked Peter, feeling shocked. “Thor- I don’t-”

“How do you feel?” asked Thor kindly.

“I feel- good. Great,” confessed Peter.

“And you will. Gather what pollen you may desire, with whomever you should wish willingly,” Thor offered graciously. “Yggdrasil will delight in such offerings and I wish to have a happy Handmaiden greet me, not one made resentful by over-pruning.”

“Wait, what?” asked Peter, because the Doctor had never implied a, like, dependent relationship on Thor. No, according to the books, this Handmaiden stuff was biological, a need for hormones and chemicals and not- not- there was no implied, like, subservience in the transformation- what the _hell_? “Thor, I don’t- understand.”

Thor smiled down brightly, rubbing his nose against Peter’s playfully. “No, I have no doubt you understand very little of these matters, refusing my tutelage. But you are here, in New Asgard, and you will be taught by the caretakers of the Tree, and all will be revealed to you, sweet soul.”

Peter bristled. “I am not- not a petal or _sweet_ -” he hissed, pushing on Thor’s chest, trying to heft the man off of him. 

Thor budged not an inch. “You are,” he insisted, pressing kisses along Peter’s neck. “You smell of May flowers and the juice of all fruits, golden and ripe in the peak of their flavor.”

“You smell like dirt and power lines,” Peter retorted, pushing Thor up. Thor chuckled and heaved himself up on his elbows, to hover over Peter again with a grin. 

“You sound much more yourself, Peter,” said Thor happily. “I am glad you are well.”

“Your dick did not heal me,” Peter informed him shortly.

“My stamen is the only thing capable of healing you,” teased Thor, shifting his hips and groaning as the anther slid through Peter’s flesh once more, both of them twisting away and into the sensation as it glided through swollen, aching flesh only to catch at Peter’s entrance. “Relax,” commanded Thor with a grin. “Set me free, before you heap more abuse on me.”

“Trying,” muttered Peter through gritted teeth, concentrating on pushing the head of Thor’s cock from his body.

“Relax,” breathed Thor, trailing fingers down Peter’s side gently, until he slid his hand under Peter’s ass and lifted him to a new angle, pulling himself free with an audible _pop_ and a flood of sweet floral scent into the room, Peter’s thighs and ass once again coated with sticky fluid.

Peter clenched his ass tightly, concentrating on sucking his pucker back up to tighten it. This was weird enough to try to- to pretend this was any of it normal or even, even right, without a gaping asshole leaking the scent of magnolias and cherry blossoms everywhere. 

“Very good,” chuckled Thor, rolling off of Peter, the hand underneath Peter trailing the motion to rub gently on Peter’s stomach.

Peter’s distended stomach, he realized in horror, looking down at the small roundedness to it. “You’re sure there’s not seed pods in me right now,” he demanded faintly. “Or a- _fuck_ , how is this _my life?_ ...child?”

“I am not sure,” conceded Thor, grinning. “But it would be out of season. The siren’s blood quickened you to my use, increased your need beyond the capacity to be met outside of the bond of the World Tree, but I do not believe even the blood of a siren could ripen your ovaries before Yggdrasil’s time. You will have years, yet, before you bear young for me, Peter.”

“Years,” whispered Peter, shocked again.

“You are young yet, to bear such a burden, such responsibility to the World Tree,” Thor told him seriously, fingers tapping on the slight mound of Peter’s stomach. “I feared Yggdrasil’s decision in that first hour, but you have borne the weight so cunningly, so apt to your new role, the strength of your inner spider helping you to adapt. Truly, I do not know if anyone has ever been as suited to this as you, Peter.”

“I don’t-” began Peter, falling silent under the fullness of everything he didn’t _know_ or _want_ about his new role.

“I imagine not, little one,” sighed Thor, lifting his hand from Peter’s stomach. “Come, I will dress you, and we will find Valkyrie, Heimdall. We will take you to the Norns, who will explain better than your Doctor of Strange out of _books_.”

Peter considered the lack of aching in any part of his body, sitting up slowly as Thor levered himself to his feet, tucking away his weird-looking cock, shriveled now to almost normal proportions. “Yeah. Yes, please, I need to _know_ ,” he said, finally, looking up at Thor as Peter perched on the edge of the opulent bed, feet nowhere near touching the floor.

Thor caressed his cheek with a fond smile on his lips. “I know it, Handmaiden. How much I admire that human trait, the desire to _know_ all things, the burning curiosity that is so often your finest trait. Yes, come, I will dress you, and we will go seek out knowledge together, that you do not meet the next swell of your desire with fear or confusion, but understanding. It will be well, Peter, I promise you. You are well suited to this role.”

Thor’s hand burned gently against Peter’s cheek in a way that Tony’s and Doctor Strange’s had never done, after he’d sated his thirst and hunger. Peter nodded, watching Thor’s reaction to his assent, his skin rubbing against Thor’s callused palm, the slight shocking sensations already familiar against his cheek.

“All will be well,” Thor promised him, again, and Peter swallowed, sliding off the bed to follow his god to knowledge.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, everyone still having fun? Should we do more?
> 
> Feel free to come scream at me on the WriterBuddies Discord, it's a good server for newbies who are looking to get started in the greater fanfic community: [WriterBuddies](https://discord.gg/4KWWccK)


End file.
